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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172838">Vanilla Twilight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirduckytontheduck/pseuds/sirduckytontheduck'>sirduckytontheduck</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst sort of, Drunkenness, Implied Relationships, Tsukiyama Week 2020, idk this is kinda sad, they go to a bar and kei gets shitfaced, yamaguchi is only mentioned, youve been warned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:48:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirduckytontheduck/pseuds/sirduckytontheduck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>1 missed call from 'has always been this kind'<br/>voicemail from 'has always been this kind'<br/>---<br/>kei just needs to forget.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TsukkiYama Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Vanilla Twilight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is my first work on here. i don't know how ao3 works. i hope you like it!! it's kind of sad i think. you've been warned. </p><p>(written for tsukiyama week 2020)</p><p>i've been staring at this for too long, sorry if there are some inconsistencies in the writing or any grammar, punctuation mistakes or small typos. </p><p>disclaimer: i don't know how bars and alcohol work. i did not-so-extensive research on BAC levels and intoxication. i've cross-referenced with a friend who knows a little more about alcohol than i do. ALSO: this is supposed to be set in somewhere in sendai post-SA/MSBY match. i realize after finishing that some details are not completely accurate or make sense, but i don't want to rewrite a bunch of stuff. ANOTHER THING: where i live, it never snows. i don't know how snow works. </p><p>happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The stars lean down to kiss you</em>
</p><p><br/>The light of his phone shines in Kei’s face as he lies in bed. He stares at Tadashi’s last post: a picture of him--or rather, his back--as he stares at the stars. The crescent moon hangs neatly in the top right corner of the photo. He’s wearing a baby blue jacket, <em>the one that has a peace symbol on the front</em>, Kei thinks.</p><p>The photo is captioned ‘<em>if my heart was a compass, you’d be north</em>’ and Kei recognizes it from an American pop song that Tadashi would hum sometimes as he bustled around in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. The song he’d hum as matching mugs clinked together and overly-sweet coffee trickled down throats.</p><p>
  <em>And I lie awake and miss you</em>
</p><p><br/>Scrunching his eyebrows, Kei shifts in his bed so that he is lying on his back, his arms raised above his face, still staring at the picture. He breathes in slowly and lets out a long, shaky exhale, and turns his phone off. He sits up and pushes the duvet aside and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Ignoring the need for sleep, he slowly makes his way to the kitchen, one hand on the wall to steady himself.</p><p>He puts a kettle on the stove for tea and sits at the table with his head in his hands as he waits for the shrill whistle. A sharp jolt back to reality.</p><p>
  <em>Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere</em>
</p><p><br/>He pours the hot water into a mug--his mug, it seems--and sticks a teabag in. He doesn’t care about what flavor it is, he just needs to do something. Distract himself. The steam coming off of his drink dances and curls in the winter air as it steeps.</p><p>
  <em>‘Cause I’ll doze off safe and soundly</em>
</p><p><br/>Kei sits at the table, once again, this time, watching the steam dissipate in the air. He sits in the same spot, unmoving, for a while. He doesn’t touch his drink. He starts dozing off and eventually leaves the kitchen and his untouched mug, to return to his place in his bed. Taking his glasses off, he pulls the duvet to his chin. He closes his eyes and turns onto his side, hoping to get a few hours of sleep.</p><p>
  <em>But I’ll miss your arms around me</em>
</p><p><br/>His eyebrows furrow as he pulls his knees to his chest. His mind wanders to the past. How he used to sleep exactly like this, except there was another, cradling him as he drifted off into dreams of freckles and brown eyes. How he was always there, bringing warmth. Now, it is cold. Grey and drab.</p><p>
  <em>I’ll send a postcard to you, dear</em>
</p><p><br/>At one point, Kei had sent a postcard to Tadashi. He thought that Tadashi would like the picture. The postcard came back the next day with ‘Return to Sender’ in big red letters and in his own script:</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>‘‘cause I wish you were here’</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’ll watch the night turn light blue</em>
</p><p><br/>The blaring red of Kei’s alarm clock reads 6:31. It was February, now. The sun is only peeking out from behind the tall city buildings. A measly cup of coffee sits in front of him, no longer warm as it was two hours ago when he made it. He stares out at the brightening sky. Black fading to blotches of light blue and pink.</p><p>
  <em>But it’s not the same without you</em>
</p><p><br/>Kei places his untouched mug into the kitchen sink and saunters off to get ready. His heart longs the presence of another person in his small apartment. Specifically, one that smelt of sweet strawberries and reminded him of home. There was no longer the opening of kitchen cabinets and the soft run of water from the bathroom. No longer was there that smile that made Kei’s gut wrench in the best way possible.</p><p>
  <em>Because it takes two to whisper quietly</em>
</p><p><br/>The smile that Kei first had the pleasure to see when they first met, after he had scared the bullies away. The smile that met Kei every day on their walk to school. The smile that accompanied their daily goodnights. They would whisper to each other in class. Harmless gossip, inside jokes, random noises just to make the other smile. Exchanged glances when the kid sat in front of Tadashi in class would snore in his sleep. Shared secrets and soft exhales in soft hair and hidden smiles behind out-turned palms.</p><p>
  <em>The silence isn’t so bad</em>
</p><p><br/>As Kei walks out of his lonely apartment, he presses a few buttons on his phone and puts his headphones on. The ones that Tadashi got him for his birthday a few years ago. The music got him through it. Mostly. The soft melodies and harmonies would make him forget, if only for a moment, that he was alone.</p><p>
  <em>‘Till I look at my hands and feel sad</em>
</p><p><br/>Kei shifts the strap of his bag as he exits the apartment complex onto the snow-kissed pavement outside. He heads towards the shop where he worked: a small music shop co-owned by former Shiratorizawa student, Semi Eita. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, the cold nipping at his fingertips. <em>Of course I forget my gloves,</em> he thinks to himself. He clenches his fists and takes a deep breath. His breath curls out of his nose and mouth like smoke rushing out of his father’s.</p><p>He takes his hands out of his pockets to rub them together. The friction creates heat that lasts only a few moments. He puts his hands back in his pockets.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>‘Cause the spaces between my fingers</em>
</p><p><br/>Kei reaches out to push the front door open. The smell of coffee and the feeling of loneliness meets him as he walks into his apartment. Tossing his keys on the counter, he saunters into his bedroom to flop onto his mattress. He stares at his hands, slowly defrosting. Cold and light; yearning the weight of another’s.</p><p>
  <em>Are where yours fit perfectly</em>
</p><p><br/>Clenching his fist, Kei can only imagine the warmth and heaviness of Tadashi’s hand in his. The way their fingers would slot together perfectly. The feeling of a rough palm against his, slender fingers stroking softly over pale knuckles. Thumbs rubbing gentle circles on the backs of hands. Kei watches as he unfurls his hand and slowly exhales.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’ll find repose in new ways</em>
</p><p><br/>Kei quits his job at the music store. The decision is completely spontaneous. Or maybe it wasn't. Because every time he walked into that place, all he thought of was Tadashi. <em>Tadashi and I used to listen to this song all the time</em> or <em>He got that model guitar for his birthday and I'd listen to him play for hours on end.</em> He couldn't focus. On more than one occasion, Semi would even have to speak to him privately about staying focused and making sure the customer is satisfied with their service.</p><p>When he puts in his resignation letter, Semi gives him a sad smile. <em>I’m sad to see you go</em>, he had said, shaking Kei’s hand. <em>I hope you are happy wherever you end up</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Though I haven’t slept in two days</em>
</p><p><br/>YESTERDAY<br/><em>has always been this kind (15:27)</em><br/>hey dude, r u doin anything tomorrow night?</p><p><em>has always been this kind (16:20)</em><br/>kei are you okay?</p><p>3 missed calls from ‘<em>has always been this kind</em>'</p><p>TODAY<br/><em>owl idiot (09:54)</em><br/>megane-kun~ u should cmoe hang out with us! its me, akaashi, kuroo, chibi-chan, and lev! at the bar n grill by the music store!</p><p><em>absolute moron (08:38)</em><br/>tsukishima! grumpyshima! come hang with us tonite! It’ll be fun! kageyama’s not gonna be there so you don’t have to worry about him.</p><p>1 missed call from ‘<em>has always been this kind</em>’</p><p>voicemail from ‘<em>has always been this kind’</em></p><p>Kei stares at his phone. At all of his notifications. Despite his initial plan to ignore everyone, he caves in and listens to Kuroo’s voicemail. It’s short. He scoffs as Kuroo lectures him about getting sleep. <em>you can’t get through the day without sleep</em>, he says. <em>at least take a nap or something, man. i know you miss him, but you also have to take care of yourself.</em></p><p>He says something about how it’s already been a few weeks and that he and a few others from high school were getting together later that day and that he should come. j<em>ust for a little bit, kei, to get your mind off things</em>, Kuroo had said.</p><p><em>what time</em>, Kei texted back a few hours later. Kuroo replied immediately: <em>5:45,</em> then a few moments later: <em>t</em><em>hanks kei</em></p><p>
  <em>‘Cause cold nostalgia chills me to the bone</em>
</p><p><br/>Kei, bundled in his thick jacket and hand-knitted scarf, heads out of the apartment complex. It is only around 3:30 and light snow is drifting down.</p><p>
  <em>But drenched in vanilla twilight</em>
</p><p>He walks aimlessly through the neighborhood, ending up at a nearby park. The wind blows the snow into his glasses. The small pricks of ice melt on his pink cheeks. He stops at a snow-dusted bench. Brushing off the snow, he sits down and breathes into his hands, warming them up, fogging up his glasses in the process.</p><p>
  <em>I’ll sit on the front porch all night</em>
</p><p><br/>His hands tremble as he wipes his glasses off. With shaky hands and breaths, he puts them back on his nose, pushing them up with his index and middle fingers.</p><p>
  <em>Waist deep in thought because when I think of you</em>
</p><p><br/>Kei sits there on the bench, shivering, for a while. The only sound accompanying him is the soft <em>whoosh</em> of wind and the soft shuffling of feet on the sleet-covered pavement. He watches as people in coats and scarves and hats and mittens pass by. People who are alone walk swiftly, checking their watches, or are on the phone with someone, or have their hands buried in their pockets. Couples huddled together so lovingly, walking with matching footsteps. Groups of teenagers run across the park yelling and laughing and having the time of their lives.</p><p>He thinks of when he used to walk with Tadashi, like this. Shoulders brushing against each other, watching as their laughs and stories and banter created puffs of steam in the air.</p><p>For a moment, Kei forgets he’s alone. He smiles and turns to his right to say something about the old days in high school to someone who isn’t there. For a moment his heart drops. His smile fades. For a moment he feels like crying. But he doesn’t because that moment passes.</p><p>His mind wanders to a familiar smile, sparkling eyes, the splash of freckles and acne scars, soft hair, and a warm embrace. And he smiles to himself because these memories make him feel less alone.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t feel so alone</em>
</p><p><br/>He stands up from the bench when the time on his phone reads <em>4:18.</em> His glasses burn cold on his temples and the bridge of his nose, his hands are numb, his ears aren’t a thing now (they’ve frozen and fell off due to the cold). He brushes off the snow from his clothes and walks to a nearby cafe.</p><p>He opens the door and is immediately greeted by a certain warmth and the smell of pastries and coffee. He takes his gloves off, shoving them into his pocket. He goes up to order a hot chocolate.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t feel so alone</em>
</p><p><br/>The warmth of the drink in his hands and the hot of it in his throat warmed him up considerably. He stays sitting at the table, slowly sipping his hot chocolate until the sun starts to dip down in the sky.</p><p>Kei disposes of his cup before pushing back into the cold of the outside world. He snuggles deeper into his jacket as he slips on his gloves. He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks slowly over to the bookstore a few streets down. It’s fifteen minutes to five. He walks into the bookstore. It’s soft yellow lights and the dull laminate flooring welcome him.</p><p>He walks through the rows of books and funny bookmarks and brightly colored stationary. His fingers brush gently over book spines and covers. He takes books from the shelves and flips through the pages absent-mindedly, reading the summaries and praises on the back covers.</p><p>He saunters through the store until a disembodied voice from the store’s overhead speakers tells shoppers that the store will be closing in twenty minutes. He grabs a sketchbook with a cartoon dinosaur on the cover and walks with heavy footsteps over to the register. He’s probably never going to use it.</p><p>He steps away from the register and through the doors of the establishment 1500 yen poorer. He checks the time on his phone. <em>5:43.</em> He’s supposed to meet everyone in two minutes. Ah, he thinks to himself. I’ll just be late. And he heads off in the direction of his apartment, the opposite direction of where he was supposed to go.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>I don’t feel so alone</em>
</p><p><br/>Kuroo greets Kei with a loud <em>hey!</em>, followed immediately with Bokuto shouting his infamous <em>hey hey hey!</em> Hinata gives a small wave and a big smile, Akaashi bows respectfully, and Lev basically jumps on top of him. Bokuto slings an arm over Akaashi’s shoulder and asks Kei why he’s so late. <em>It’s only been five minutes since we got here, Bokuto-san</em>, Akaashi says calmly.</p><p>Kuroo announces that the first round is on him and he runs away</p><p>Bokuto and Hinata speak animatedly about their last MSBY match to an over-excited Lev.</p><p>
  <em>As many times as I blink, I’ll think of you tonight</em>
</p><p><br/>Kuroo comes back with shots and a big smile. Kei does not think that it is ‘<em>time to get this party started</em>,’ but he takes a shot anyway. He squeezes his eyes shut as the alcohol burns down his throat and lingers on the back of his tongue. A snippet of memory flashes behind his eyelids: a person in front of him laughing as he sputters and chokes down a gulp of Jameson and the accompanying giggle of <em>sorry, tsukki!</em></p><p>Kei more-or-less slams his shot glass on the table and demands another one. I need to forget, he thinks. Kuroo snorts as Akaashi hands over his shot. <em>I’m not drinking hard liquor tonight</em>, he says, glancing over to Bokuto who feigns offense. <em>I don’t get that drunk! Besides, we have practice tomorrow</em>, he rebuts.</p><p>Hinata barges into their conversation with a demand for sustenance. Lev’s eyes shine as he heartily agrees.</p><p>
  <em>I’ll think of you tonight</em>
</p><p><br/>An hour and a half, five shots, and two beers later, Kei is definitely drunk. He can only barely remember why he was there with his friends. He can’t even remember why he was so sad for the past few weeks. He can only recall a sense of loneliness. He calls for another shot. Kuroo claps him on the shoulder. <em>Are you sure, man? Can you take it? You’re not known for being a heavy drinker</em>, he slurs.</p><p>Kei pushes the older man off and orders more shots.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>As violet eyes grow brighter</em>
</p><p><br/>He stares into the blue purple red lights on the ceiling. Everything is fuzzy. The sounds, the sights, he can’t even feel the burn of hard liquor down his throat. Kuroo is talking loudly, waving his arms around. Hinata is eating french fries (<em>french fries</em>, Kei thinks. <em>Who was it that likes french fries?</em>) while rocking his drink back and forth. Lev has his head on the table. Bokuto has his face smooshed against Akaashi’s shoulder, hugging his arm, blubbering nonsense.</p><p><em>Where’s Tadashi</em>, thinks Kei to himself. He turns to Kuroo to ask, but is cut off by a loud thump. Lev is now standing and singing along with the music playing over the speakers. Bokuto joins in along with Kuroo. Kei is too caught up in the moment to remember what he was going to ask.</p><p>
  <em>And heavy wings grow lighter</em>
</p><p><br/>He starts humming along with the rest of the boys. Kuroo throws an arm over both Bokuto and Kei as they all sing along to cheesy pop music. Kuroo looks at Bokuto and laughs loudly because <em>who knew Kei was secretly a party animal?</em> Kei smiles widely and sings even louder. He even gets up and starts <em>dancing</em> with Lev.</p><p>There’s a weight that falls off of his shoulders. Off onto the floor, disintegrating into nothingness. The pressure in his heart loosens a little more with each shot, with each beer, with each song. He can no longer remember the pain. He can no longer remember Yamaguchi Tadashi.</p><p>
  <em>I’ll taste the sky and feel alive again</em>
</p><p><br/>Kuroo orders another drink for Kei. <em>You should take it easy on the shots. Here, you might like this.</em> It’s a Blue Moon Light Sky. It tastes like oranges. Kei downs it in seven gulps. <em>I’m so fucking drunk</em>, he laughs. <em>I feel like passing out, holy shit.</em></p><p>
  <em>And I’ll forget the world that I knew</em>
</p><p><br/>Kuroo hesitates as Kei motions for another beer. He waves off the waiter when Kei has his attention turned away. <em>Are you okay, Tsukishima?</em> Hinata, who was up until this point, munching on loose pieces of lettuce from Bokuto’s half-eaten burger, places a hand on Kei’s shoulder. <em>I think you should stop drinking, now. It’s late. You should go home.</em></p><p>Kei only scoffs. It’s still early. 11:30 is early. He doesn’t have to go home. He can just stay here and feel nothing. He can stay here and watch as Lev sings off-key and Hinata laughs loudly at Kuroo and Bokuto’s theatrics. If he leaves, the feelings will come back.</p><p>Akaashi whispers something to Kuroo and stands up. He taps Bokuto on the arm and they grab Kei by each of his arms and escort him out of the building. <em>We’re taking you home</em>, Akaashi explains carefully.</p><p>
  <em>But I swear that I won’t forget you</em>
</p><p><br/>Bokuto shifts awkwardly under the weight of another person. They are nearly to Kei’s apartment when Kei lurches to the side of the path and throws up. It’s ugly. It’s mostly liquid that comes up. It splatters over the pavement and bushes. <em>Hey, Tsukki,</em> Bokuto pats him on the back, rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades.<em> It’s alright, man, just breathe and get it all out.</em></p><p>Kei slowly turns to Bokuto, his shut eyes opening slowly.<em> Tadashi? What are you doing here?</em> Bokuto looks toward Akaashi, concerned. Akaashi sighs and helps Kei up. <em>Come on, let’s get you home.</em></p><p>They get to the apartment complex and drag Kei up the stairs and down the hallways until they get to Kei’s apartment--or rather, until they get to a door that Kei can successfully unlock.</p><p>Akaashi turns on the lights and guides Kei to the bathroom. Bokuto goes to the kitchen to get a cup of water. The two help Kei out of his clothes and glasses into a ratty t-shirt and faded blue sweats.</p><p>Bokuto helps Kei into bed as Akaashi fixes the sofa bed for them to sleep on. He throws the blanket over Kei and leaves the glass of water on the nightstand. <em>Tadashi, don't leave me, please</em>, Kei mutters softly.</p><p>Bokuto sighs and goes to retrieve Akaashi. Tears are forming in Kei’s eyes. Akaashi sits on the edge of the bed and brushes away Kei’s tears.</p><p>
  <em>If my voice could reach back into the past</em>
</p><p><br/><em>Kei, Tadashi isn't here, he whispers. I’m sorry, but he isn't here.</em> The tears aren't stopping, now. Why aren't the tears stopping? <em>Why am I so sad?</em><br/>Kei takes in a shaky breath. <em>Call him</em>, he demands. <em>I want to call him.</em></p><p>Bokuto sits on the bed next to Akaashi, one hand on his shoulder and the other on Kei's arm.<em> Tsukishima, I don't think that's a good idea. Maybe you should just go to sleep for now.</em></p><p>The tears and blubbering don't stop. <em>Let me call him! Give me the phone and let me call him. I want him to be here!</em> He rolls out of bed and staggers over to the pile of clothes he was wearing just a few moments before. He rifled around before finally grasping at a hunk of cold metal.</p><p>Akaashi sighs as the drunk, snotty-nosed man in his mid-twenties dialed in a number he shouldn't be calling.</p><p>
  <em>I’d whisper in your ear</em>
</p><p><br/>Akaashi and Bokuto watch silently as Kei sits there on his knees, hunched over, one hand biting his nails as he sobs, the other holding his phone tightly to his ear. There is a muffled voice on the other end of the line, whether it was someone answering or the automated voice alerting the caller of their inability to make the call, the two didn't know.</p><p>Kei, unmoving, sniffled as he took a deep breath and said:</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>“Oh darling I wish you were here”</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading through this all the way to the end! sorry about the weird formatting and stuff, i'm kinda new to this and i tried to do something... different... </p><p>whoo! i actually started this a while ago. maybe early may?? i originally wanted to do an animatic but then i remembered: i don't know how to draw. (so if anyone wants to make an animatic out of this.... haha jk unless) </p><p>in the notes i had originally, i wanted this to be a story about tsukishima learning how to cope with loss (honestly whether yamaguchi is dead, or they broke up, or had a huge fight is up for reader interpretation). </p><p>i see the song, vanilla twilight, as a story of just that: coping with loss and learning how to continue to live. but then everything changed (when the fire nation attacked). i realized that i can twist the meaning of the lyrics because this is MY story. i wanted to take the verse: 'when violet eyes grow brighter, and heavy wings grow lighter, i'll taste the sky and feel alive again. i'll forget the world that i knew, but i swear i won't forget you. if my voice could travel back through the past, i'd whisper in your ear: oh darling i wish you were here' and make it into something not so sweet. </p><p>this story is not about healthy, slow, gradual healing. its not 'i'm so sad that i don't have my person anymore, but its okay because there's a whole world out there waiting for me'. this story is about being broken and pain. it's 'i'm so sad i don't have my person anymore so i'm going to neglect myself because i care more for my person than i care about my wellbeing and i'm slowly falling into this dark abyss that i can't climb out of by myself'. </p><p>anyways, that's that. i hope this does justice to the tsukiyama nation. and the haikyuu fandom as a whole. </p><p>thanks for reading!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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